At the Cracks of Doom
by Iorhael
Summary: Chapter 4 - Uninvited Guests. Gollum bit off the Ring from Frodo. Gollum took over the hold of the Ring. But Gollum did not slip. Oh, no, he did not.
1. Default Chapter

At the Cracks of Doom

A fourth LOTR fiction by Iorhael

Rate: PG

Warning: AU, angst

Disclaimer:     All characters, setting, and even the plot belongs to the greatest author and storyteller, Prof. J.R.R. Tolkien.  This story is an imaginative elaboration of what Tolkien mentioned in his letters in The Green Book.

Summary:      Gollum bit off the Ring from Frodo.  Gollum took over the hold of the Ring.  But Gollum did not slip.  Oh, no, he did not.

AN:              I dared myself to beg Aralithiel to beta this for me.  I want to see her reaction on the plain work of mine compared to the grander pieces of hers.  And I am so glad she agreed to have a look at it.  So, any great things written here belong to her.  Emma and MBradford, my apology for not asking you this time.  I mean to give you two a surprise.  This story is dedicated to you.  Hope you like it!

Chapter 1

"We've come, Sam."  Frodo straightened, his voice barely a whisper.  Several paces ahead of him the Cracks of Doom gaped in mocking revelry as the flames danced and capered along its edge.

They had been crawling up, Frodo and Sam, silently and wearily, to this place, not realizing how near they had come to the end of their quest.  No, not the end yet.  There was still something terribly important Frodo had to do.  Something that Frodo almost had no more energy left to execute.

It was dark, menacingly dark around them, until Frodo stepped further, toward the edge of the gap.  Frodo caught his breath.  The blazing heat from the tongues of fire deep down below him almost toppled him over.  It was the kind of heat Frodo had never experienced before.  And the sulfuric smell was so sharp Frodo almost gagged.

"Yes, Mr. Frodo," replied Sam weakly.  Frodo turned around, feeling almost sorry for his loyal gardener.  Frodo vaguely remembered Sam with a much rounder body and face, but that was no longer so.  This journey had withered Sam's once-husky frame until it was almost as slight and pitiful as his own.  Frodo wondered how many times Sam had gone without in favor of his master. 

_"No, Sam," protested Frodo in a cracked voice once.  "You need to eat, too.  I still need you, Sam."  But Sam just shook his head.  Mr. Frodo needed it more than him, with the mounting burden he still had to bear.  "Well," Frodo sighed.  "All right if you insist, then.  But at least have some drink."  This time Sam gave up, taking a wee gulp of water.  Nothing refreshing, though.  It was oily and horrifyingly bitter.  What could they hope to find in this cursed land of Mordor?  At least the water was not poisonous. _

Sam's apparent weariness could also be explained by his insistence on carrying Frodo on his back at times when he found his master drooping and unable to raise himself anymore.  It was a miracle that he could do that, Sam mused, but he had promised never to leave Frodo and promised to do anything to help him in this impossible task.

But Frodo was far from himself, too.  The once sparkling eyes of his were now dimmed.  Frodo's body was nothing more than skin and bones, clad in tattered and shabby orc rags.  Filthy, unkempt, spent, and completely exhausted.

Frodo forced a smile for his gardener.  "Finally, Sam."

"Yes, Mr. Frodo.  And now," Sam reached for Frodo's shoulder, kneading it gently.  "It is the time."

The two hobbits were so deep in their own reveries they did not notice a sneaking figure coming out of a dark cave not far behind.

"Tricksy --- tricksy hobbitsess.  Murdererss--- Yess, they kill the old ladyss.  Now they must pay, oh yess, they will---"  But the hissing sound was still too low to be heard, not that Gollum cared if they did hear him or not.

What really caught the creature's attention was the loving grasp of the nasssty gardener to his master and that completely averted Gollum's mind from Shelob's figure, lying wounded and perhaps even dying in the dark passes of her noisome lair.  Gollum's mind drew back to the memory of two sleeping hobbits not long before this.  Or, was it long enough already?  Certainly not for Gollum for it was still fresh in the twisted being's mind how Frodo and Sam both slept soundly as if nothing in the foul air of Mordor could disturb them.

_Frodo was lying on his back, the upper part of his body resting on Sam's lap.  And Sam was sitting down, leaning on a tree with one hand clamping over Frodo's chest and the other over Frodo's forehead._

Gollum was drowned in his own mind, eyes darting unseeingly, lips parting forming a weird yet sweet smile.  Those hobbits had looked so peaceful, and Gollum's affection toward Frodo deepened.  He had actually grown to respect the young hobbit, much younger than himself, ever since Frodo spoke on his behalf against Sam's rude remark.

Sam.  Yess.  That cruel hobbit must be finished soon.  He had called Gollum sneak.  Yess, he did.  He had called Gollum loathsome names.  And that was totally unforgivable.  Gollum had only wanted to touch Frodo, to caress the peaceful, dozing hobbit, never intending to hurt him, let alone snatching off the Ring.  But the fat hobbitsss had then snapped awake and accused him of wanting to harm Frodo.  Sneak, thief, were just some of the names the cruel hobbit had thrown at him.

Gollum had to kill the unpleasantly plump gardener.  Yess, he had to do that.

"--- I will not do this deed!  THE RING IS MINE!"  A thundering voice yanked Gollum back to reality.  Hardly recognizing the voice as the gentle hobbit's, Gollum focused his sight and caught Frodo's looming frame at the edge of the fissure, lifting the Ring high in the air, eyes gleaming in sovereignty – eyes that seemed not to belong to the Frodo that Gollum had come to know.  And Gollum saw how the gardener fell on his knees beside his possessed master, quivering and trembling both in disappointment and trepidation.

"Frodo, no!!"  Sam's voice was unbelievably small compared to Frodo's.  Sam scrambled up and flailed his hands, trying to reach at the Ring squeezed in between Frodo's thumb and forefinger, but it was too far.  He could only seize his master's sleeve.

"Foolss!" hissed Gollum.  "Let him go, you ninnyhammerss!"  Gollum blindly felt around and his claws caught the biggest rock near him.  He stormed forward and jumped high, and with a screeching scream, he slammed the rock hard at the unaware hobbit's head.  Completely caught off his guard, Sam did not realize the danger coming upon him fast and deadly.  The rock struck him hard on his skull, leaving him to reel and stagger backward.

"F – frodo---"  Sam whined weakly, rolling his eyes back and going totally slack and limp, before witnessing how his master eventually claimed the Ring – putting it on the third finger of his right hand.

--- and whap!  Frodo disappeared into thin air.

Gollum was aghast, open-mouthed in an utter shock.

"NO!"  he shrieked one long moment after he could finally get back to himself.  No!  The hobbit could not take IT!  It was his!  His own!  His preciousss!  It meant a lot more than Frodo – however deep Gollum's fondness was.

Gollum gave a long, sharp stare at the empty air where Frodo had been standing, and leapt forward.  Feeling sure that the hobbit still hovered around the place, Gollum jumped up, another shrill voice heard in the darkness.

And he was right.  Gollum was right.  He felt something and he caught it.  It felt like a flailing hand.  And Gollum took it close to – his mouth.  And bite he did – and he bit hard.

A wailing scream full of pain pierced the air, coming seemingly out of nowhere – before its owner re-emerged a moment later.  Panting vigorously, Frodo cast himself to the ground.  His eyes darted around wildly, trying to adjust to the bleakness – save for the fire from the fissure.  Frodo looked almost confused.  Almost – as he was also burned inside with rage.  He had almost gone home, with the Ring around his finger.  And although everything seemed blurred in the shadow's world, Frodo could see clearly all the battles in which men and elves fought against the Dark Power.  And Frodo could see that the Dark Power – he – almost gained the victory.

But not anymore.  The Ring had been snatched away from him without his knowing how or by whom.  And the rage that was flooding all over him slowly diminished, turning to dread.

Then Frodo realized a short while later how his right hand was shaking uncontrollably, throbbing painfully.  And HE was shaking uncontrollably to find out the reason why.  Slowly Frodo raised his hand and with eyes widening in terror, he spotted a gap that was created between his fingers.  One of them was missing, and a fountain of crimson streamed from the ragged wound.  Frodo bellowed in agony, taking the maimed hand into the other one as if it would help lessen the pain.  He started to feel nauseated and doubled over to the ground to stop himself from vomiting.  For a moment the memory of the Ring was erased from his mind as he desperately tried to control the stinging pain.

Not once did Frodo notice the jumping and cavorting form not far from him.  Frenzied by the joy of having successfully ripped back his 'precious', Gollum failed to notice the quivering, huddled-up figure near him, too.  The figure of the former Ring bearer.

Eventually Gollum's outburts subsided and he dragged himself toward Frodo, eyes still glistening with ecstasy.  He extended his hand to the hobbit, poking at the shoulder with gentle care.

"Frodo Baggins," Gollum called merrily.

Frodo jerked up to a sitting position, one hand still clasping upon the other, curly ruffles falling haphazardly to his face hiding his wild eyes.  For a moment nothing else mattered but a gold band clutched between the crouching creature's fingers before him.

"Thief!"  hissed Frodo, completely out of his usual self.  Yet, he had NOT been his usual self during the journey.  "Give it back to me at once!  Give me back the Ring!"

Gollum seemed taken aback – and fumed.  This was not something he had expected before.  He was about – to share his happiness.

He was no longer crouching.  Gollum loomed up as tall as he could, his fingers flying to Frodo's direction, clawing, and catching the hobbit in the throat.

"Aackk---" A choked sound emitted from the shocked Frodo.  He flailed his bloody hands and gripped Gollum's wrists, attempting in vain to get rid of the bony limbs.  Frodo's throat started to burn, his bones cracked, causing the pain from the bitten finger to be forgotten for a moment.

Gollum watched in excitement at the weakened hobbit.  Frodo began to grow lax.  There was barely any strength left in his body.  Frodo's eyes rolled back as oxygen in his brain was thinning.

"What says you now, hobbitss?"  Gollum sneered.  "Who do you call thiefss, thiefss?!"

In between his desperate attempt to stay awake, Frodo's mind suddenly cleared, releasing the fury and instead focusing on another, more powerful sensation.  Only fear.  Fear.  Gollum.  The Ring.  Gollum had the Dark Power in his grasp.  And Frodo was to be the first victim.  No.  Sam.  Sam was the first.  Frodo was his second.

Another thing flashed across Frodo's brain.  He had failed, Frodo hitched.  Now Middle earth was going to collapse.  And it was all because of him.  Frodo shut his eyes more tightly in misery.  He was leaving this world, peacefully or not.

But suddenly, a realization seemed to return in Gollum and he released Frodo in an abrupt toss.  Frodo whimpered softly as he felt, dream-like, the hard thump at the back of his head.

Gollum seemed to grasp who was in front of him – a hobbit who had wisely and understandingly defended him from the other, fat, hobbit.  A hobbit that empathized with Gollum's loneliness over the years.  A hobbit he came to like very much.

Frodo groaned as consciousness seeped back to brain.  He blinked the lids of his eyes, opening them, refocusing them – to catch his attacker in his sight.  Frodo gasped and shrank back.

"No, please!"  Frodo pleaded.  But the jerking movement had caused his injured hand to sting again.  "No – ahh!"  Frodo brought his hand to the chest, covering it again with the other.

Frodo's rejection toward him saddened Gollum so.  This should not be happening.  Gollum – no.  Smeagol.  Smeagol loved Frodo.  And it was this cursed half – Gollum – that had forced him to lead the hobbit to the old lady's lair to his near death.

Smeagol approached Frodo slowly and the hobbit threw himself further to the back – only to realize that he had been cornered as he felt a rough surface of rocks behind him.  Smeagol stopped at once and spoke with the gentlest voice he thought he had.

"Fear not, hobbitss!  Smeagol is good.  Smeagol will not hurtss!"

The twisted creature realized Frodo was the first person in his lonely, 500-year-long life that had brought his memory back, making him remember his real name, although at the same time, making him aware of the thing he had done long, long time ago, murdering his own kin.  But it was Frodo who freed Smeagol from the nightmare of the guilt.

Smeagol advanced again, stretching out, hardly comprehending the result of his action to Frodo, who stared at him in sheer panic.

TBC

AN: I would LOVE to hear from you, readers!  Please, leave a note or two for this writer.


	2. Gollum's Cave

AN: Thank you very much for your warm welcome!  I would also like to extend my gratitude for the best author, Aratlithiel, for her great beta.  This will be nothing without her corrections and suggestions (which is a lot, if I may say, as my writing was so painfully plain. :)  I hope she won't give up on me.

endymion: Thanks for reading it!  Yes, this is another one by me and now I have too much to do.  LOL.  I have to work hard to catch up on everything.  Thank you for reminding me of Sauron, too.  Hope I won't forget him.

Aratlithiel: And thank you for showing me how to make things such as italics and bold work.  Now I can use them anytime I want!

MBradford: Another of my betas!  About an alive Gollum, I will say, please keep on reading!  
  


Kenobi: Thank you for reviewing!  Sorry if it takes me too long to continue.

Trust No One: Well *look around* Actually, this is not totally my idea.  The great Tolkien inspired me and I elaborate it shamelessly.  :)

Krista: Of course it's not going to end here.  But it's not going to be very long, either.  Not as long as NH, of course.  LOL.

aelfgifu: I can't wait!  I can't wait everything about ROTK!  And Emma, I can see why I can't stop myself being grateful for the day I found you.  You will always be my greatest aspirator.  You support and encourage me all the time.  Thank you!

Chapter 2 – Gollum's Cave

Warning: AU

Frodo was barely aware of his surroundings.  His nostrils did not smell the rotten, suffocating fumes.  His ears did not hear the grumbling and rolling noises that the crater evoked as it prepared to unleash its fury.  Frodo's skin did not suffer the abrading air against its surface.  His eyes could not see anything in the murky atmosphere but the two pairs of outwardly bulging eyes that were staring at him, sometimes in deep compassion, sometimes in a diabolical, twisted sneer.

Smeagol had changed back to Gollum.  He had become the malicious creature Frodo first encountered before he overpowered it and twisted its oath for the Ring for the benefit of Sam and himself.

Frodo was right, indeed.  The eyes adorning the skulking, bony face before him certainly did not belong to Smeagol although he had sworn to Frodo that he was Smeagol and that he would never hurt the hobbit.  Gollum had once said something about _thief_ with such hatred in his voice.  It was something both Frodo and the creature would be hard pressed to forget.

"I'm not a thief."  Frodo's shaking voice was thinner than the air.  He curled more tightly in his fetal position.

Gollum froze to hear that.  His outstretched arms stopped in the air.  _What?_  Gollum, or Smeagol, wondered.  _Did he sniff fears from this lovely hobbit?  Did he really scare him?_  The trembling voice cracked again.

"Please.  Don't hurt me.  I'm no thief.  I did not steal it.  I…"  Frodo's previously weak pleas spiraled to a crescendo as he became more and more terrified.  Frodo closed his eyes in despair, breath coming shorter and more labored with each intake of the heated fumes.  Then quiet.

Frodo ceased his squeaking as he came to realize then, that Gollum did not continue his attempt to reach Frodo.  If Frodo could only fathom the turmoil that was going on in Smeagol's mind as he was watching Frodo's quivering form…

_I'm no thief!  I'm no thief!  Well, HE was a thief.  _Shudders ran through Smeagol.

_"Give us that, Deagol, my love."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because it's my birthday, my love, and I wants it."_

_"I don't care.  I have given you a present already, more than I could afford.  I found this, and I'm going to keep it."_

Smeagol fluttered his lids shut.  A tear escaped still.

/Smeagol reached out.  At first he aimed at Deagol's shoulders.  He caressed and kneaded them gently.  Then slowly Smeagol sneaked up, brushing away his friend's long, tangled hair, and clutching at his neck.  A bit too harsh for Deagol's taste, and he started to squirm away./

_"Oh, are you indeed, my love," purred Smeagol and the grip, harder this time, had circled around his friend's throat.  It was too late for Deagol to struggle now as the hands closed tightly around his neck and squeezed, denying the air that pulsed hot and full in his suddenly deprived lungs.  Deagol's eyes popped wide in disbelief._

_"I don't believe that, my dear friend," whispered Smeagol in his most velvety voice.  His eyes went cold as he watched his friend's limp frame slowly drop to the ground.  Smeagol let him fall.  He stooped –grabbing the Ring, sparing no thought of mourning for the passing of his friend.  "Thank you.  Oh, thank you, beloved," he said dreamily as he put the Ring around his finger._

Frodo observed Smeagol in great wonder as the wretched thing fell feebly to the ground.  It seemed to be weeping now.

_Yess…!  He was the thief AND the murderer.  _Smeagol thought frustrated.  _And not only that.  He was his family's disgrace._  Smeagol covered his face with both of his hands.  _He deserved all this._

_Still with the Ring around his middle finger, Smeagol set back to his house that was situated on the edge of Wilderland by the banks of the Great River.  It was the biggest house in the neighborhood and was owned by the wealthiest family there.  Smeagol hardly bode inside, though, as he preferred burrowing under trees and plants and tunneling into green mounds.  But this was his birthday and he was eager to show the most precious gift he had ever got.  As for the /giver/, not once did Smeagol recall on his past existence._

_"Grandmother!"  Smeagol called out as he stepped into the hall.  But that only resulted in echoes bounding about the empty walls._

_'Grandmother' Smeagol called her, but that was not truly what she was.  The old lady, being 120, was the most respected member of the family, the mistress of the house.  A perfect example of a Stoor hobbit – broad, heavily built; skin the color of burnished copper in the summer sun; wide-eyed; hair straight and dark; long of limb, she excelled her family members in her wisdom, caring and protectiveness._

_Everyone in the house loved Grandmother, and Smeagol was no exception, although his recent preference for burrowing and reluctance to meet the sun had given her pause as of late._

_"Grandmother!"  Smeagol repeated his cry, impatience beginning to edge into his voice.  This big house was unusually vacant.  Where was everybody?  Smeagol proceeded to the backyard where there was a nicely tended orchard lined with hedges.  Smeagol used to play hide and seek here when he was still a lad, besides going swimming in the river.  And when he grew older, Smeagol found out that many adults like to 'play hide and seek' in this garden, too.  Smeagol smirked mischievously._

_Just like now, the annoying yet intriguing sounds of hobbits taking secret pleasures had made his pointy ears straighten up.  Curious ever, Smeagol traced the sounds, tiptoed to a cluster of shrubs, and upon reaching it, Smeagol jumped up over the bush._

_"Peek-a-boo!"_

_Smeagol almost rolled on the soft soiled ground, laughing so hard as his eyes caught the shocked couple._

_"Uncle Gorbadoc!  Aunt Maiva!  What are you doing here?"  Smeagol bounced around merrily, imagining what great news he would bring to the judge – the fairest grandmother.  Both Uncle Gorbadoc and Aunt Maiva had had very happy marriages – or so they seemed – with their own wife and husband.  The fact that they committed adultery would shatter grandmother's heart._

_But it was not something Smeagol should worry about.  And he was sure many people would find this case as amusing and thus enjoy it as much as Smeagol did._

Now it was not only Frodo who was curling up.  Smeagol did, too.  His long arms flew to his head, wrapping protectively around it.  His legs bent up to his abdomen, a position that almost sent him sprawling to the ground.  Frodo, on the other hand, slowly uncurled, and as inquisitiveness won over, he craned his head forward.  Smeagol was sobbing freely now.  The creature seemed to forget completely about the Ring that was held tightly in his clenched fist.  Frodo silently cursed himself for his lust for the Ring, but remained alert – after all, there was always the chance Smeagol might drop it…

/But the time when Smeagol may have been able to release it – whether by accident or of his own accord - had long since passed.  Had he known before the Ring had entered his life what damage it would do, he may have been able to avoid Its evil snare.  Then he would never have thought of abashing his own kin, meddling into their affairs, taking advantage of people.  But it was too late for Smeagol before he had ever even touched the thing and certainly after realizing something incredible./

_Smeagol repeated his question to Gorbadoc but wild stares were the only answer he got._

_"Who is that?" hissed Gorbadoc, half mad, half scared.  He tried to wave away Maiva, who clung tightly to his left arm, terrified._

_"W – whose voice is that, Gorba?" spluttered Maiva._

_And Smeagol thought both hobbits had gone insane._

_"Uncle Gorbadoc, why are you jesting!"  Despair sliced through Smeagol's heart.  Was he that easy to forget?  And all because he was too busy burrowing the underground!_

_"Aunt Maiva, please!"  Smeagol trembled now.  "It's…"_

_"He sounds like Smeagol, do you think so?" whispered Maiva.  "But why is he only a voice?  He's not dead, is he?"_

_Finally Smegaol began to understand that the two simply could not see him.  He circled around the bush and Gorbadoc and Maiva jerked their heads at the sound of grass rustling at their right, ensuring Smeagol of his suspicion.  He approached slowly step by step until he was barely an inch from Gorbadoc's nose.  The other hobbit undoubtedly felt Smeagol's presence, too._

_"Is that really you, Smeagol?" Gorbadoc's unexpected loud voice sent Smeagol back a few steps.  "I know your voice.  But… but how can you be invisible?"_

_A twisted idea suddenly came to Smeagol's mind.  When he spoke again, his voice turned harsh._

_"That's not for you to know, Gorbadoc!  You just be careful.  And you too, Maiva!"  Courtesy was not something Smeagol cared about anymore as he curtly 'forgot' to address both his older relatives with the usual proper titles.  Smeagol snapped again, "And you have no proof whatsoever about who we are.  So, do not attempt to do anything to harm us!"_

_"Us?" shrieked Gorbadoc.  "Who is 'us'?  Smeagol!"  But to no avail.  Gorbadoc's voice was fading in Smeagol's ears as the content hobbit walked away._

_And so it started Smeagol's sneaking around, eavesdropping, and putting threats to whomever he wanted to.  And although he always wore the Ring while doing all the malice, people started to have doubts about him._

_When accusing words reached the grandmother's ears, she directly summoned Smeagol.  But lack of proof helped him.  No punishments could be levied._

_Smeagol did not completely come out clean, though.  No one in the family placed trust in him anymore.  No one wanted to talk, sit, or eat with him.  Whenever Smeagol attempted to get near for something as simple as a friendly conversation, people would openly shun him and tell him to keep away.  Confused and angry, he would then slip away while muttering to himself and gurgling in his throat._

"Gollum?" Frodo called softly at the tormented soul.  "What is it?  Tell me what pains you so.  Tell me so I might help."

But Smeagol did not heed Frodo's   soothing words, full of promises and cruel hope.  It was   _Gollum_ whose voice now filled his ears.

_Gollum!_  Smeagol's eyes widened at the   hated name.  He squatted and coughed hard, spluttering away the name.  Frodo shrank back in dread.

/"Gollum," laughed some young lads over and over whenever he wandered near them.  And so the name stuck.  Even the adults called Smeagol 'Gollum'.  They had condemned him a pathetic freak.  And Gollum returned the ill treatment with more noxious doings, especially toward the females./

_Unable to control Gollum anymore and desiring peace, grandmother eventually decided to expel him altogether from Wilderland._

"Hobbitss never knows, preciousss.  Smeagol sadss.  Sadss.  Alone, yess.  No friendsss.  No sunss.  No.  Smeagol walkss and walkss."  Gollum said it all, hands flailing busily.  Frodo could not help feel amazed at this.  Gollum decided to talk to him!  After all   he had done to Frodo!

"Walk?  To where, Gollum?  Smeagol?"

A wide smile formed on the creature's face, almost splitting it into two.  Smeagol recognized how Frodo had trusted him enough to call him _Smeagol_ again.

"Smeagol walkss along the river.  Deep, deep into the mountain.  And Smeagol found our home!"

Frodo knotted his brow.  Could he mean the Misty Mountain?  Frodo had heard Bilbo's version several times.  That was where the old hobbit met Gollum, err, Smeagol.  And – _us_?

"Your home!"  beamed Frodo, hoping that he could somehow twist Smeagol so that he would willingly give Frodo the Ring.

"A cave!  Smeagol's cave.  No," his eyes suddenly clouded.  "Gollum's cave.  Ourss!"

Suddenly Smeagol jumped up and loomed over Frodo.

"We hass it!  A home!  And we are not alone anymore!  Hobbitss, masterss, comesss with uss!"  Smeagol took Frodo by his upper arms, grasping them tight and fast.  Frodo winced in pain.

"Come with you?" he breathed in despair, Gollum's bony fingers digging sharply into his arms as he was dragged up.  "Where?"

"To the cave!"  Smeagol radiated.  "To Gollum's cave!"  The creature seemed not to care about who he was anymore, Smeagol or Gollum.  He found Frodo's bloodied hand and closed in on the wrist, dragging the hobbit along with unbelievable strength.  Smeagol could not care less whether Frodo struggled vehemently or stumbled every now and then.

TBC

AN: Please tell me what you think of this!  I always welcome any kinds of feedback.  Spasibo!


	3. Nassty Little Baggins

AN: Oh, how many apologies should I ask of you, my dear readers and reviewers! I wish it will never happen again.

FrodoBaggins87: On the other hand, you're good in dialogs while I'm not! :) Thanks for all the reviews!

Kenobi: Wow, thank you! I adore your story very much! I can't wait for the continuation, too.

aelfgifu: I wish I could speak Russian more than you do! But I can only understand the 'loobloo'. LOL. I hope you aren't disturbed with the so many fics I ask you to read! And I hope you can have your stories with italics now.

Aratlithiel: Thank you so much for your support and encouragement. I can see that although we all have differences, we can still enjoy something together.

HazardousRaptor: Thank you! Please keep on reading and reviewing.

Krista: Yes, I have a kind of rough plan on this story. And thanks a lot for Aratlithiel for her great beta!

Dead Mage Chel: Mmm… The Ring is not really undestroyed, but you'll see!

endymion: Oh, someone recognized the name! Actually I just take any hobbit name provided in the book. LOL.

purplefluffychainsaw: Thanks for reading it, honey! Amazing? Well, my beta is amazing!

AN: Forgivess us for shamelessly using Prof. Tolkien's genius lines!

Chapter 3 – Nassty Little Baggins

It was hard enough for Frodo to keep his paces straight while stooping to match Gollum's height. Once he stumbled and as he tried to ascend, Frodo looked over his shoulder and whispered.

"Sam."

Frodo's heart leapt as he saw from a distance his gardener shifted, slowly awakened from his unconsciousness. In a moment Sam would fully come to and realize that his master had gone. Frodo had to hamper Gollum's attempt to drag him away.

If ever, the former Ring-bearer had not intended to leave this cursed place, not when the Ring had yet to be destroyed. Bitter bile rose in Frodo's throat recalling his failure to do that in the first chance. His _own_ failure…

Frodo tugged at his gripped hand weakly and Gollum turned around, halting at once.

"What iss it, preciouss?" The creature's spirit was still high as reminiscence of his old home was flickering in his mind.

"Aa… you mustn't really want to go back to your cave, must you?" Frodo altered his previously planned reply. Why, the creature should not find out his real objection to their leaving, of course.

Gollum creased his brow, wondering, but widened his eyes as he thought he understood what Frodo meant to say.

"We knows, preciouss! Masterss is wearied. Carry him, yess, yess, we will!"

Frodo's droopy eyes rounded in amazement at the conclusion Gollum had jumped to. But of course, the creature could only guess from Frodo's outer bearing, for which the hobbit was thankful.

"A quick-witted Smeagol I am beginning to understand! Yes. Your master needs rest. The long journey had taken so much from him." Frodo plopped down to show how worn out he was at the thought of having to undertake another walk. The Misty Mountains could be hundreds of leagues from Mordor. "But Smeagol needs not carry him. Smeagol is not…" Oh! Frodo was too close to mentioning the most detested name for the creature. But he could not help it, knowing from the last time he glanced at his beloved gardener and saw how Sam had been up and would surely spring up to help him.

Yet, inknown to Frodo, Gollum had caught his reflexive gaze toward Sam and the creature followed it and so suddenly everything was revealed to him.

"Nassty little Baggins!" he snapped in rage and disappointment. "It wants to trickss us like the other one, doess it not?" Gollum gave a sharp yank to Frodo, who was too astonished to query about _the other one_ as he was wrenched, surprisingly, to Sam's direction.

Frodo dreaded the inevitable – that Gollum was finally so maddened that he would slay Sam once and for all. Frodo could not imagine what was actually in the twisted being's mind. Jealousy? Frodo never thought Gollum would think of him as _his_, as a possession. Why? What would he want to do with Frodo?

"Ick!" hitched Gollum, stopping just a few steps from Sam's erect form. Both pairs of eyes, Gollum's and Sam's, looked challengingly at each other. No confusion or apprehension shone in Sam's brown eyes despite the condition he had been previously. If anything, it was only madness as he saw Frodo caught in the despised creature's hands. But no more!

Frodo stole the chance to flee as he realized Gollum was too engrossed in his own anger. Frodo ripped his bloody hand from the former hobbit's claw, and slammed himself backward as he tugged away too mightily against the strong grip. Frodo fell hard on the small of his back and his breath was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping for air in the next moment. Stars were floating around and to the corner of his gaze, followed by something else.

Gollum!

The creature was quickly closing the distance between him and Frodo, hissing in fury and in an instant he was looming over Frodo, reaching out his clawing hands to the hobbit's neck with the speed of a winged Nazgul.

"Aaacck…" Frodo fought desperately as he felt the flow of air to his lungs cut mercilessly. Flailing his hands wildly and kicking his with his limbs, aiming at nothing in particular, Frodo felt his body weakening fast and not one of his body parts followed what his brain bid them to do. Deep in his mind, though, Frodo cursed at Sam's tardiness to come for help.

"S… s… s…" Frodo's face contorted as he tried to articulate the one name of his loyal manservant, his front teeth frustratingly attempting to grit and his face turning absurdly from ashen-white to red and then into blue. The furrows across Frodo's brow gradually smoothed, as he was no longer able to act or react to whatever was coming upon him. Gollum squeezed more and Frodo's head started to loll backward, his body slacking completely. Frodo barely knew his surroundings anymore and Sam's springing up into action was lost on him. It was a disguised fortune that Frodo had been semi-conscious, so he hardly felt the pain as Gollum swung his body, turning him into a shield – protecting the creature from the infuriated gardener.

Sam was stunned for half a second before he resumed his attack, spitting out curses into the burning air of Orodruin.

"You let go of my master's neck, you filthy beast!" Blood still flowed from the gash at his temple and was seeping down now from his torn heart as he witnessed how Frodo's very soul was slowly sucked out of his flesh.

"Let Frodo go. Now!" Sam bellowed. "Aren't you enough with the Ring?!"

Gollum stiffened at the mention of the Ring, eyes staring through Sam to the void behind him. A voice played in Gollum's mind, bouncing to and fro the hard shells inside the creature's head.

_"C-c-can't do it, Smeagol. That's mine."_

Smeagol gifted his dear friend with a relentless sneer, his still-meaty hands kneading Deagol's throat and neck, slowly and more tightly, as if they were a lump of bread dough.

_"You're wrong there, my love," Smeagol purred suggestively. "It's my birthday now and I deserve more than the scrolls of poems you gave me this morn."_

_"No!" Deagol protested weakly. "I found the band. The founder is the keeper." Yet, he wondered silently, where was It? Deagol could hardly seem to find the Ring that was supposed to be within his fisted palm. Had he unintentionally dropped It?_

Gollum jerked at a small movement in his clasp. He looked down, aghast, and was a bit stunned at the figure lying prone and almost lifeless. To his surprise, Gollum saw no Deagol. This was not Deagol. The creature was not a beloved friend he used to spend lazy days along the river with, fishing and tunneling. This was not his sharper-eyed Deagol. This sickly, bluish face, instead, belonged to the nasty Baggins that reminded Gollum much of the other, nastier, Baggins from his past, the one having partially caused his misery. And for a moment, forgotten were all the feelings of care and veneration toward the younger Baggins.

_"Praps we sit here and chats with it a bitsy, my preciousss. It likes riddles, praps it does, does it?"_

Cursess! That was the beginning of Gollum's desolution. Talking to a Baggins he later knew to dwell in the Shire, who had mischievously nabbed his most precious belonging. But did he really?

_"What have I got in my pocket?_

Gollum remembered those musing eyes and the dreamy voice of Bilbo Baggins. But what startled him most was the simplicity of the question. They were supposed to give riddles, were they not, though the brilliance of that short riddle almost sent Gollum leering. And the wretched creature had then voiced its dissatisfaction.

_"Not fair! Not fair! It isn't fair, my precious, is it, to ask us what it's got in its nassty little pocketses?"_

_Only then when Gollum, as desperate and woeful as he was in trying to find the answer, knew what the puzzle really meant, as he decided to pick up his precious Ring and discovered that It was gone._

_Wailing and screeches would not help, they only succeeded in scaring Bilbo who later had discovered the secret of the Ring and slipped It on around his finger and made himself invisible – which only proved Gollum's earlier suspicion._

_"Curse it! Curse it! Curse it!" hissed Gollum. "Curse the Baggins! It's gone! What has it got in its pocketses? Oh we guess, we guess, my precious. He's found it, yes he must have. My birthday-present."_

Gollum's face was unbelievably horrifying with his two huge, pale eyes straining out, red and threatening. Drat all the Bagginses! One had left him helpless and lost, living in the dark tunnels of the Misty Mountains, without his precious. And the other one, Gollum glanced over at Frodo's pathetic, slumped, unconscious form, head now thrown back, revealing dark auburn circles on his throat from Gollum's long and bony fingers.

Doubtfully, Sam advanced slowly. Gollum might have already loosened his strangle-hold, but the menacing figure looming over his hapless master made the soft hair on Sam's neck stir and stand. Gollum could just as well end Frodo's life anytime. And Sam heard those gurgles followed by a soft whisper.

"Gollum, gollum! Thief, thief, thief! Baggins! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it forever!"

TBC

AN: My best regard for the greatest beta ever, Aratlithiel!


	4. Uninvited Guests

From previous chapters 

_Frodo jerked up to a sitting position, one hand still clasping upon the other, curly ruffles falling haphazardly to his face hiding his wil eyes._

_"What say you now, hobbits?" Gollum sneered. "Who do you call; thiefss, thiefss?!"_

_"I'm not a thief." Frodo's shaking voice was thinner than air._

_"Gollum, gollum! Thief, thief, thief! We hates it, we hates it, we hates it forever!"_

**Chapter 4 – Uninvited Guests**

Frodo's claiming of the Ring had diverted the Lord of the Black Land's deliberation back to his own place. He had been concentrating on what was happening outside the Black Gates and had sent all his multitude there to drive off those who were trying to intrude. Now apparently he had been deceived. The real _intruder_ had been inside all this time, just as he had surmised.

The Eye whipped around and its blasting light was now scorching through the doorway leading to the passage to the cracks of Doom.

That _anyone_ had dared to take his Ring! Even death would be too good for him!

The Dark Lord's wordless summons had sent those under His command home. The bevy of leaderless winged Nazgul were the first to answer, flapping their gigantic wings with deafening shrieks, heading straight toward Mount Doom to where the light of the Eye pointed the way. The wraiths had sensed that too – someone other than their master had laid claim to the Ring. That could mean they would have a new master – but that could also mean, and this was what they felt certain of, their rightful master, Sauron, was in indescribable wrath. Then it would only mean one thing – secure the Ring, snatch the fool who dared challenge Sauron, and take him before the Great Master for his punishment.

"We hates all Bagginses!" Gollum's eyes turned into slits, his lips curving full of threats, and Sam's blood froze at the sight of the creature's claw tightening at the collar of Frodo's shirt. Gollum had started to pull the insensible hobbit toward the opening of the mountain when Sam came to realize he might lose Frodo forever, should he not do anything to stop it.

"Then what --" His voice was weaker than he ever imagined, "should you need my master for? You hate him. You got the Ring, so go now! Away from him." Sam crept forward, unavoidably flinching every time he noticed how Frodo's body bounced on the uneven ground as Gollum dragged him away.

The deformed hobbit merely smirked at the gardener's plea and continued plodding forward. He hated Frodo – and Bilbo – yes, but he also needed him. Having even unwilling company would be so much better than not having anyone to talk to at all. Besides, glancing down at Frodo, Gollum felt sure they would have much more to do than simply talking. Frodo was an extraordinary hobbit. Gollum knew he could make use of the hobbit for his entertainment. And if the hobbit refused, Gollum had the Ring to force him to comply.

"G – Gol – Smeagol, please!" Sam was drowning in his despair. He fell on his knees, tears cascading down his filthy cheeks. "Please release my master." He thought he heard Gollum snort, followed by his triumphant croak.

"It's too late to be nice with us, now, isn't it, preciousss?" A cracking chuckle tore the air. Gollum was getting closer to the doorway while Sam's bravery had evaporated away. The creature had never threatened to murder Frodo but it was the thing he would most likely do if Sam decided to go after him and snatch Frodo up. Gollum would rather have Frodo dead than not in his clutches. On the other hand, Sam almost regretted that Frodo himself did not…

wait!

Sam held his breath. He might be mistaken but –

yes!

Sam squinted to get clearer view of his master, and…

yes, Frodo!

Sam was not mistaken. Frodo was beginning to regain consciousness. Sam could easily see now how Frodo was kicking out his legs and flailing his hands.

But…

Oh, no!

Sam clamped both of his hands over his mouth to stop himself from whooping. The movement looked so familiar. The lifting of the right hand and bringing it to his left shoulder. And the writhing. Writhing and moaning. Full of pain.

Mr. Frodo!

Sam had got to his feet and started to lurch forward when he realized one thing: Gollum had also halted now, mouth and eyes gaping wide. He shrieked and voluntarily let go of Frodo, caring not at how the hobbit bumped down hard. Frodo seemed unaware of this, though. He kept squirming on the ground, his left shoulder burning hot. The memory of the Morgul-blade was searing through his mind. Once he opened his eyes, Frodo let out a blood-curdling scream.

On the passage way, stepping in menacingly, were eight black-hooded, towering Nazgul.

TBC

AN: I should thank YOU, YOU, YOU for encouraging me to go on. It's not much, I know, this chapter 4, but you see, I managed to come up with one! I'm sorry. I honestly admit that I have difficulty in continuing this. I shouldn't have started it. I really hope I can continue this, so help me God. My gratitude also goes to Aratlithiel, whose patience I really admire. I know it's difficult for her to deal with this. It's so plain compared to the magnitude of her writing.

Nimrodel of Meneltama: Here I am. I wish you're still here…

No smile: Gollum goes into a rant about a new precious? How interesting!

Frodo Baggins 88: Thank you for reading! Your questions are my questions, too!

Lucky Larue: Thank you for coming over. It got the fourth chapter, yes, but I have to struggle for the next.

Aratlithiel1: Thank you very much!

endymion2: The Ringwraiths have come. They are there under Sauron's order, I guess.

aelfgifu: I hope you won't have to wait so long to see that. Thanks for reading!

Trust No One: I'm not worthy of your nice words, TNO. I can't promise about the update but I'll try!


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